


Unspoken Etiquette

by phoenixflight



Category: A Separate Peace - John Knowles
Genre: Angst, Boarding School, M/M, Male Friendship, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-16
Updated: 2012-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-29 15:36:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixflight/pseuds/phoenixflight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s an unspoken etiquette among men and boys who share rooms – if you have to get off, and there’s no chance for privacy, then wait till the lights are off, turn your back, don’t make noise, and don’t ever look at the other bloke.<br/>Finny, being Finny, utterly disregarded this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unspoken Etiquette

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for dub-con. See bottom for specifics.

There’s an unspoken etiquette among men who share rooms – if you have to get off, and there’s no chance for privacy, then wait till the lights are off, turn your back, don’t make noise, and don’t ever look at the other bloke.

Finny, being Finny, utterly disregarded this.

Early in the summer term, Gene had been working late, the lamp at his bedside burnishing the room a warm sepia. Across the room, Phineas had flopped back on his bed, and kicked his shoes off, staring up at the ceiling. Since he was rarely still for long, Gene thought nothing of it when he first heard Finny shifting, rustling about.

Then Finny sighed, and Gene glanced up, still half-absorbed in Les Miserables, only to feel his stomach drop unpleasantly, as if he’d slipped down a step he hadn’t been expecting. Phineas had his shirt rucked up under his armpits, exposing a long, tan torso, leanly muscled, elegant, nothing Gene hadn’t seen before, changing in the morning, or swimming or running, but now  
Finny’s chest was rising and falling faster than normal as his torso arched and bowed as he rolled his hips. One hand was pressed against his groin, rubbing slowly, the other on his chest, fingers rolling a flushed nipple.

His bottom lip was clenched between his teeth, and he made a whimpering noise. That’s when Gene realized he’d been staring, mouth open, stomach tingling. And he still couldn’t look away, especially not when Finny is fumbling with his belt, pulling open his trousers, taking a hold of himself and shamelessly thrusting up into his hand. The head of his cock was red and round, appearing and disappearing in his fist, and his whimpers had turned into a constant stream of little moans and gasps, escaping on the ragged tails of panting breaths. His whole body rocked to the motion of his hand and his hips, effortlessly graceful, breathtakingly beautiful even – especially – in this.

And then he tensed, arching up off the bed, and Gene saw white liquid leap up onto his quivering stomach, and heard his choked gasp. Finny collapsed back on the bed and turned to look straight at Gene and grinned, devilish and knowing, before closing his eyes.

Gene sat frozen, achingly hard and burning in mortification, for a long time after Finny’s breathing had evened out and deepened into sleep. Finally, in a daze, he clicked off the light, turned his back, buried his face in his pillow to muffle the noise, and jerked off, fast and rough, dry hand chafing, and came hard, images of tousled blond hair and a long, lean body stamped behind his eyes.

Afterward, he stared into the dark for a long time, an unpleasant coldness curling in his stomach.

Neither of them mentions that night. But it happens again. And again. Gene will wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of Finny’s moans from the other bed. Phineas had proven himself over and over to be incapable of doing anything quietly. Lying awake and aroused, Gene would wait until Finny broke off in gasps and grunts, and his breathing leveled and quieted, before pushing down his own pajama bottoms and touching himself.

As the summer drags on, it becomes apparent that it will not be contained to the private environment of their shared room. Gene begins to feel the telltale flush on his cheeks and tingle in his stomach while watching Finny at sports, sweat drenched and panting, or at the pool, hair plastered to his head and water running in rivulets down the bare chest that is now a fixture in Gene’s nightly fantasies.

And of course, whenever Finny catches him staring, he just grins in a way that makes Gene turn violent shades of scarlet, and his insides burn with shame, that grin like he knows exactly what Gene is feeling.

They’ve been swimming in the river. Finny hauls himself out, dripping, back gleaming, and sprawls on the grassy ban. Shadows and sunlight dance across him, lattice-patterned from the branches overhead. “Aren’t you coming out?”

Gene, mute and red-cheeked, shakes his head.

“Whyever not? You’ll cach a chill.”

“Don’t…” When he speaks, his voice is slightly hoarse, and he coughs, blushing. “Don’t want to.”

“Oh, that!” Finny laughs. “Don’t worry about that. It’s perfectly normal. Come on out.”

Reluctantly, Gene pulled himself up on the bank, carefully keeping his back to Finny. He sat tense and hunched, staring out across the playing fields.

“Look,” Finny says, “Just take care of it. It’s not a big deal. I mean, we’re mates right?”

Gene wants to scream at him that it bloody is a big deal, and that mates don’t do that sort of thing. But Finny is already wriggling out of his own shorts. “Look, we’ll do it together, will that make you feel better?”

No, Gene thinks. Finny is teasing himself to erection, lying back on the grassy bank, splayed shamelessly for the world to see. Gene maybe whimpers a little because god Phineas is beautiful and Gene’s already hard and this really isn’t fair but he can’t help pressing his hand against his groin, rubbing a little, and Finny smiles at him, and it makes something twinge in his chest.  
Finny strokes himself lazy and slow, and painfully familiar from nights of silent voyeurism. Now Gene has Finny’s permission to join him but he can’t, he can’t, the sunlight is too bright and too damning, the sensation of exposure too raw, more acute than the slow ache of arousal.

“Come on,” Finny groans, “Man up.” The roughness of his voice makes Gene’s cock twitch, but he doesn’t move, still staring resolutely at the water. And then Finny moves behind him, a rustle of grass and a huff of breath and suddenly is sitting beside him, shoulder to shoulder, and he can feel Finny’s arm moving against his, and suddenly Gene can’t breath. He doesn’t want this. For all that he’s hard and aching, he never wanted this, not like this, not one of Finny’s rebellious games, not something to laugh about.

But Finny is reaching across him, hot fingers sliding across his stomach and tugging at the waistband of his shorts, and he doesn’t do anything but lets Finny pull them down, wrap his hand around Gene’s erection. He strokes with that rhythm that Gene has watched for so long, tried to imitate in darkness many times, and its better than he was able to do, even as his cheeks burn and his hands clench on his thighs. Finny twists his fist on each stroke, at the base, and rubs his thumb just under the swollen head. His grip is tight and hot and all it takes is one glance at Finny’s own flushed cock before Gene is coming hard, eyes closed, hips bucking up off the ground.

Breathing heavily, he hears Finny’s breath go ragged too, the familiar strangled moans that he has to strain his ears to hear across their bedroom, now far too close for comfort.

When he finally opens his eyes, Finny is sprawled beside him, naked and glorious, a contented smile on his face. He sees Gene looking at him and laughs. “See? Easy, huh?”

And Gene looks away, out across the river and the lushly green trees, because his throat is tight and his eyes are stinging. Nothing about Finny is easy for Gene.

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, sometimes we don't want our fantasies to come true in real life. What Finny does in this story may or may not strike anyone else as particularly manipulative, but it kind of bothers me, so I figured it deserved a warning. Kind of an unhappy, bitter ending, too.  
> EDIT - wow, teenage-me thought this "kind of bothered" me and wasnt even sure it deserved a warning. NEWSFLASH: this whole fic is full of bad and non-existent consent, and should be considered dubcon. Read responsibly, friends.


End file.
